Betrayal
by cousin D
Summary: Jesus Christ Superstar. Slash.  How Jesus and Judas met before the show. Judas POV mostly.  I added a few bits.


Jesus Christ Superstar, the newest one, inspired this story. It was fantastic! I am not religious by any means, but this was a very good story. None of the characters are mine and I promise I don't mean to insult any religious belief.   
  
Please enjoy.  
  
Thanks for all the earlier reviews, I appreciate it.  
  
  
  
  
BETRAYAL  
  
Judas-  
  
  
  
God, my head hurts. I dismounted my horse and tied him firmly to make sure he didn't escape me while I rested. Actually, I wasn't so afraid of him running away as I was of him being stolen. The thieves in this particular city are quite bad.  
  
I slump down against one of the walls and wrap myself up in my coat, tattered and torn with age and my years of traveling. Just one left, I thought to myself. Just one more to kill...  
  
There are people coming toward me. I stay as still as I can and put my hand on the long dagger I keep hidden in the sleeve of my coat as it isn't wise to trust anyone. I know I can defeat any man in hand to hand combat, but this is a large group of people, some sort of gang. It will be best for me if they don't see me and pass by.  
  
If only this headache would go away and I could think more clearly.  
  
  
Jesus-  
  
  
He was sitting as my disciples and I approached. He had short, black hair that was receding early and he wore a black leather jacket over a bright red shirt. He was apparently sleeping with his back to one of the dirty, graffiti painted walls with his head slumped down on his chest. I knew the man was hungry when I saw him and, as we drew closer, I felt he was sick. There was something wrong with him on the inside, but I couldn't tell without touching him.   
  
How could I know such things? I had never known such things without touching people before. Was there a connection between us?  
  
I went to him, without explaining to the other men I was traveling with, knelt next to the sleeping stranger and reached my hand out, but just before I could touch him, the man's hand jumped up with a dagger nearly a foot long in it. The blade touched my throat and the stranger's hand grabbed me by the back of my neck. I heard my disciple's gasp, not knowing what to do. I could see the muscles in the man's arm twitch, jumping under his skin like an animal, and I knew that with a simple move he could easily kill me.  
  
"One move, boy, and I'll spear you." His voice was rich and deep, like a singer's voice, but his words didn't matched the cool eyes he had. He seemed almost amused at the thought that I might be a threat, now that he got a good look at me. Certainly, I wasn't intending to hurt him.  
  
My disciples were getting anxious and angry. Someone shouted, "Let him go, bastard!" "Don't touch him!" Someone else cried. I knew they would attack if I let them. I held up a restraining hand and everyone settled down, at least for the moment.  
  
"Why?" I asked the man still holding me at the tip of his knife. I know he's not going to hurt me. I can just tell.  
  
"Because I don't especially like the notion of strangers getting so close." His voice was filled with distrust, but he lowered his knife enough to let me move freely and took his hand off my throat.  
  
"I though you might like to be free of your pain." I backed away a little, but I didn't stand up. There was something about this man and I felt somehow connected to him. "I am a healer."  
  
"What makes you think I'm in pain?"  
  
"I can feel it."  
  
He said nothing, his expression clearly saying that he didn't believe me and he wasn't taking me very seriously.   
  
"I can also feel that you're hungry." I pulled a half loaf of bread from my bag and held it out to him. "Please, take it."  
  
The stranger shook his head. "I don't take charity. Keep it for yourself, you look like you have more mouths to feed, anyway." He glanced over my shoulder at my disciples, who still were not sure how to handle this situation. I know some of them still carry weapons despite how I dislike them and, Simon, I know, has several knives and one small gun hidden on his person. I hope they don't decide to use their deadly toys. The stranger gave them a contemptuous look that said he really didn't take them seriously, either.  
  
"We don't go hungry. You are welcome to travel with us." I invited him, knowing that it was the right thing to do.  
  
"No, boy, I don't think so. I'm not a people person." He still didn't take the bread and still held his weapon ready, if not pointed at me any longer. The knife had dropped into his lap with this hand securely clenched around it. "I've got things to do."  
  
"What are you doing out here alone?" I asked, sitting on my heels so I wouldn't startle him and make sure he understood I wasn't going anywhere soon.   
  
"Just sitting." He said it with a shrug. "What are you doing with this unlikely mob, boy?" He pointed with his dagger at my anxious disciples and raised an eyebrow. "Have you started your own gang?"   
  
Why does he keep calling me boy? "We are not a gang," I told him. "We are preaching the word of God." I told him.  
  
The man laughed deep and hearty this time. "Are you joking? The word of God?"  
  
"Do you find it so funny?"  
  
"I find it impossible. There is no God, and if there is one, he is a cruel god. Still, it's your life, I suppose, and you can waste it as you see fit. What's your name boy?"  
  
"I'm Jesus Christ."   
  
The man sat up and scrutinized me a moment. "Do I know you?" He asked. "I seem to remember your name."   
  
"I don't think so."  
  
He sat with a finger tapping on his lips as he concentrated. "Ah, yes!" He said with his eyes lighting up with recognition. "Christ, the carpenter's son. I had you father, Joseph, do some business for me quite some time ago. I'm not surprised you don't remember. I saw you for a moment when you ran through your father's shop. You couldn't have been more than ten. You've grown a fair deal."   
  
I digested this and tried to force myself to remember. Slowly, it came to me. I did remember a man, with the long black coat of the Roman soldiers and the steel breastplate. My father hesitated to do work for a Roman, but relented when he'd learned what sort of business it was.   
  
The man had wanted two coffins. One coffin was for his wife, who'd died in childbirth and the other for his unborn child who died soon after her mother. At the time, I had been afraid that the man was mad, his eyes were so wild and he kept pacing with his agitation, his hand continuously clutched on his knife.  
  
I thought it best not to mention this and I knew the pain in his eyes was still grief from his family taken from him. Had he not dealt with the pain in all these years? "Yes, I do remember, but I don't think we were introduced. What's you name, please?"  
  
The man stood gracefully and I stood with him. He was taller than I was, but only by a few inches, enough that he had to look down at me, with the muscular build that spoke of a hard life rather than just a man who worked out for the sake of his pride.   
  
"Judas Iscariot." After a moment's thought, he stuck out a roughly callused hand. "Nice to meet you."   
  
  
Several days later-  
  
  
"You don't have to eat alone, you know. You're a friend, now." I told him as I sat next to him. I managed to persuade Judas to travel with us, but the others weren't so happy with the idea and I can't say I'm terribly surprised. Judas is not the easiest man to like, as he had earlier admitted. The others were all watching and I knew they would take my choosing to sit with Judas as a sign of my favor. I have to admit I do like him.   
  
Judas shrugged. "I like being alone. There's no trouble that way. Besides, I'm not one of your disciples. I'm just tagging along for lack of anything better to do." He raised an apple to his lips, but stopped and offered it to me. "Have a bite, boy." He said.  
  
I smiled and took the bite before handing the apple back. This seemed to be a step in the right direction. "I thought you had something to do?"  
  
Judas looked away. "It's my business."  
  
"Do you know why I can feel you?" I asked and Judas gave me an odd look.  
  
"I don't even know what you're talking about."  
  
"There is a connection between us, Judas. Can't you feel it?"  
  
He shook his head, apparently not knowing what I was talking about. I pinched my arm and he gave a sharp yelp and grabbed his arm in roughly the same place I'd pinched myself. He stared at me, astonished.   
  
"How did that happen?" He asked slowly rubbing his arm.  
  
"I'm not sure, but we're linked in someway. When we met I really could feel your pain and I could feel that you were hungry."  
  
Judas said nothing more about this and seemed to want to leave the issue alone but, after a few mouthfuls, he put the apple down and closed his eyes. His forehead wrinkled and it was obvious that he was in pain. I could feel it like a phantom headache in my brain. He still wouldn't let me touch him. He sat there breathing heavily for a moment and rubbing his temples before reaching into a pocket of his jeans and pulling out a bag of white pills. He untied the plastic bag and took out one of the pills.  
  
"What are you doing?" I asked.  
  
"They help with the headaches, I expect that's the pain you've been talking about. They come on so quickly and I can't think clearly without them." He popped one in his mouth and swallowed hard. "It'll start working in a few minutes."  
  
"How long have you had these head aches?"  
  
"Just this past year. They're getting more frequent."  
  
"I can heal you so you won't need those any more. I can heal you."   
  
Judas smiled, but closed his eyes quickly as the sunlight hurt his head. "Yes, I've heard the stories from your friends, your disciples as they call themselves. Thanks, but the pills work well enough." He simply didn't want to believe.  
  
"You have only four pills left in there." I said softly. "What will you do when they're all gone?"  
  
Judas stopped smiling. "I don't have any money for more. I spent all I have for this small bag; they're very expensive. I...I suppose I'll get by without them." I knew that it frightened him, the thought of having to live without the relief to such awful pain, a pain I could only barely feel.  
  
"When you run out of pills, will you come to me and let me help you?"  
  
Judas didn't answer and sat with his eyes closed against the world. "Please, leave me alone. Talking just makes it worse." He said quietly.  
  
I got up and went to the others. They wanted to talk and laugh and just be with me, but it somehow hurt to see Judas alone and in pain. The worst part was that I knew I could help him, but he wouldn't allow it, yet.   
  
I could feel the medicine slowly begin its numbing work and he began to calm as I walked away.  
  
  
  
  
The day moved on and so did we. We walked for a long time, all but Judas who rode on his fine black horse. He had it walking slowly beside me and at one point looked at me out of the corner of his eye.   
  
"Why don't you ride?" Judas asked. "Horses aren't all that expensive."  
  
"We try to save what money we can to give to the poor and destitute." I told him. "We can walk perfectly well, so there's really no reason to ride. I'm in no particular hurry."  
  
Judas thought about this, but didn't get off his horse. Since he'd been with us for several days I'd begun to notice things about him. Aside from the headaches, Judas suffered from the memories of his family who had died. He had obvious suffered in the past, because at one point, I saw him bathing in a river and saw whip scars, long healed, covering his back. When I asked about it, he looked embarrassed and very quickly put his shirt back on without answering.  
This poor man had serious problems.  
  
That day we walked into a small village, more like a cluster of houses that happened to be built close together. Judas, the moment we got into the town, got off his horse and guided it away. "I'll catch up with you later." He called absently over his shoulder.  
  
"Where's he going?" John asked me. I didn't know, but he seemed sure he could find us again, so I wasn't all that worried.  
  
Judas returned later with a surprise. His horse was missing.  
  
"Where'd your horse go?" Someone asked him. Judas ignored them and came right to me. This wouldn't work if Judas didn't change his personal skills. None of my friends were going to like him and he certainly wouldn't be happy if he only had me to talk to.  
  
"I have to talk to you." Judas took me by the elbow and led me away from the others until they couldn't hear us. He handed me a bag of silver. "This is for the poor you were talking about." He added as an after thought, "I know what it's like to be hungry."  
  
I took the pouch of coins and gave him a smile. "You sold your horse, didn't you?"  
  
He blushed and looked at his feet. "Don't you go telling anyone!" He demanded. "I don't want anyone to know."  
  
"Why not? This was a good thing you did, I'm very proud of you. Besides, they're surely going to know when they see you walk instead of ride."  
  
"They'll think I did it just to get in your good graces."  
  
"Did you?"  
  
He looked at me very seriously. "Yes." And he walked away.  
  
  
  
  
It happened to be in this town that I found out something else about Judas' past.  
  
Judas and I were talking and walking side by side with the rest of my friends behind us. "Hey! Cassius!" Someone called out. I didn't pay attention as none of my people were named Cassius, but Judas suddenly turned his head and his eyes narrowed. Then he looked shocked and looked away, trying to hide behind me as we'd been walking together. "Cassius Germanicus!" Judas sighed stood up straight, resigned to whatever was going to happen.   
  
"Is something wrong?" I asked, watching the man who'd called and was now walking over to us.  
  
"Yes, but nothing I can't take care of. Just give me a minute."  
  
The man was a Roman soldier, complete with the long coat and steel breastplate. He was an officer of some kind and walked to Judas with a puzzled expression. "Cassius, it's been a long time." He said with a smile and a cheerful clap on Judas' shoulder.  
  
"My name is Judas." Judas told him in a cold, firm voice. His posture was stiff and I noticed his left hand shaking with anger. He hid the hand behind his back, where the stranger couldn't see it.  
  
The soldier frowned and took his hand off Judas' shoulder. "Don't you remember me, Cassius? It's me, Julius Andini."   
  
Judas stepped away, closer to me and my disciples who were curiously watching. "I am Judas Iscariot."  
  
They stared at each other for a moment. "Then it's true." Julius said with wide eyes. "You did desert the army. I heard when I got back from Africa, but I didn't believe it was true. Why would you do such a thing...Judas."  
  
"I did what I had to do."  
  
"We were friends once, Cass...er...Judas. Will you tell me what happened?"  
  
"My wife died and my child with her. It changed my view on certain things. I don't want to see death anymore."  
  
Julius didn't know what to say but stepped away from Judas. His eyes turned on me and then to my disciples. A teasing smile touched his lips. "New playmates, Judas?" He asked. He gave me an appraising look. "I never thought you'd go in for the common type, but they're not bad looking and this one IS rather pretty." Julius gestured to me, but Judas stepped between us.  
  
"Don't." Judas whispered softly. It seemed to be almost a threat and Julius walked away without another word, looking rather hurt.  
  
"Should I know what's going on?" I asked after Julius had gone.  
  
Judas stared after him. "Naw. He was just someone I knew."  
  
"What was that he said about playmates?" I asked, thinking that it had sounded odd when Julius had said it.  
  
"Julius always though he was funny, I never had the heart to tell him he had a lousy sense of humor. Just ignore him." Judas gave me a fake smile and started to walk away. "I'll find you again, there's something I have to do before we leave town."  
  
Judas trailed after Julius and I got the sudden image of a lion creeping after its prey.  
  
Judas came back that night as we were preparing to leave with a self-satisfied smile on his face, but he wouldn't talk about what he'd had to do.  
  
  
  
  
It was only three days before Judas' little white pills ran out. I saw him take the last one with a tragic look on his face.   
  
On the fourth day, Judas spent most of the day sleeping in a shaded corner. After darkness fell he got up to do whatever he had to do when there was no light to hurt his eyes. Several people came to me at time to tell me that they saw Judas holding his head as if it hurt. He wouldn't talk anymore and refused to eat. I was determined not to go to him unless he wanted me to. It seemed wrong to interfere when he didn't want me to.  
  
The pain was affecting me, also, making me irritable and snappish. I was worried about him. Why was he doing this to himself if he knew I would help him? The pain, although bad for me, must be about ten times worse for him.  
  
Mary came to me on the fifth evening, wringing her hands as if she were terribly worried. "It's Judas, Jesus." She said. "He really needs you. He's down at the river and his nose is bleeding awfully. He won't even acknowledge that we're talking to him and he's staring into empty space. I think he's bleeding from his ears, too."  
  
I stood at this point and followed Mary to where she'd last seen Judas. This was going too far! Did he WANT to die? She kept talking as we walked. "He's very pale. What's wrong with him?" I knew that Mary didn't especially like Judas, but no one here was entirely heartless, they didn't want to see our new companion hurt. Everyone we passed had distressed looks on their faces and apparently knew that something was wrong and they weren't sure if even I could save my new friend.  
  
"He's sick." I told her shortly.  
  
"Can you help him?"  
  
"Only if he wants me to."  
  
Judas was as Mary had left him, sitting on the ground and balancing himself with his arms stretched out behind him. I watched for a moment, after sending Mary away, and he swayed uneasily. If this continued, Judas wouldn't live much longer. I went and sat beside him. He didn't seem to know I was there, but after I put my arm around his shoulders, he let himself be guided into putting his head in my lap and I knew he had been crying because of the pain.  
  
"Please," I begged, stroking his hair. "Let me help you. It hurts me to see you like this, Judas. You will die! What's the worst I could do?"  
  
"Nothing." He said his voice hoarsely with pain. "And that itself would be worse than death. At least if I let myself die, I will be with my family again. I have no more purpose in life."  
  
I realized he didn't want me to try because he was almost afraid that I might succeed. He was very close to wanting to die.  
  
"What do you mean you have no purpose?"  
  
"I have done what I needed to do. My family is avenged, now I should die and go to be with them. I want to see my wife again, my gentle Helen, and our daughter."  
  
"Revenge isn't your only purpose in life, Judas! There is so much to live for, Judas. I need a strong right hand man with a sensible head to keep the rest of my people out of trouble when I'm not with them. There is so much pain, fear, and anger in the world and I know we can change that. We can save people. Trust me. Let me help you."   
  
"I want to be with Helen and my daughter."  
  
"They are in paradise, I'm sure, Judas. They will still be there when it's your time to go there."  
  
"I have nothing else in life. I have no family, no home. Nothing. Why should I live? Perhaps this is my time to die."  
  
I knew that wasn't true. I don't know how, but I know there is another destiny for Judas, he just doesn't know it. "Please, let me help you."  
  
Judas focused, with some effort, on me just for a second and then nodded. "Do your best." He mumbled, finally convinced, closing his eyes again. I put my fingers to his temples and began to rub gently.   
  
Judas almost instantly felt the pain lift off his brain and a cool touch lulled him to sleep, the first decent sleep in several days. I used the opportunity of his sleep to look around in his brain and find out exactly what was wrong. It was easy to find. A growth on his brain and it was nearly set to kill him.  
  
I made the growth go away and set about correcting the injuries to his brain. There was some damage from the growth, but not a terrible amount.  
  
It was not simple, but there was no great strain, either. I sat with Judas until he woke several hours later in the middle of the night. While he slept, I studied him. Judas was very handsome, his hair was dark as night and his skin tanned from life outside.   
  
Judas opened his eyes and blinked.  
  
"You did it." He was awed. No doubt that Judas had changed his opinion of my healing ability. He reached up one coarse hand and touched my face. "The pain's gone."  
  
I smiled. "I told you to trust me."  
  
Judas sat up and faced me. Solemnly, as he sat on his knees, he bowed touching his forehead to the ground at my feet. "I owe you my life. It's yours for the asking."   
  
I hadn't quite expected that sort of response. Judas was very serious and really would do anything I told him to do. I was certain he would die if I asked him to. I wasn't so sure I was ready for this sort of responsibility.  
  
  
  
The weeks and months passed-  
  
  
  
The people are coming to close. "Heal me!" One cries and I put a hand on her head, the poor woman had almost been entirely wrapped herself up in dirty bandages to hide the leprosy that covers her body.  
  
"See my eyes, I can hardly see." Another woman with white, sightless eyes pushes forward to the front of the crowds and puts her hands on my chest, pleading. I put my hand over her eyes for a moment, but then someone else catches my arm.  
"See me stand, I can barely walk." A man hobbles over to me, desperately trying to touch me. I lay my hands on his face.  
"I believe you can make me whole."   
"See my tongue, I can hardly talk."  
"See my skin, I'm a mass of blood."  
"Change my life, oh, I know you can."   
"I believe you can make me well."  
"See my purse, I'm a poor, poor man." How can I heal his purse?  
"Will you touch, will you mend me, Christ? Won't you touch, will you heal me?   
"With your kiss you can cure me, Christ. Won't you kiss me, won't you heal me?"  
"Change my life, oh, I know you can.   
I believe you can make me whole.   
You're the hope of a poor, poor man."   
  
I want to help them all, but there are so many of them, chanting together and begging for a miracle. Close, all to close, pushing me and pulling me. I can't breath. Let me out!  
  
I try and push out of the crowd, but they are so strong and want to touch me, just to touch me so their pain will be eased. I can't get out and they push me down onto my knees, but they won't let up and keep pushing, grabbing at my hair and clothes. It hurts.  
  
There was a sharp hiss of metal against metal. "Get away from him!" The beggars all flew away like mice being chased by a cat. When I looked up, I saw his dark, tanned face with the stubble growing out of his chin and down the sides of his face. He had his long dagger out and it was flashing in the moonlight where he held it out against the threatening beggars. They all ran and hid where they'd come from.  
  
"Judas." I breathed with a sigh of relief and he held his hand out to me. I took it grateful, for once, for his weapons.   
  
"What did I tell you about walking in the city without me?" He asked sarcastically once I'd regained my feet. "You know it's to dangerous to go out alone, now." Judas snorted at my expense. "I told you to leave that leper alone."  
  
I smiled, as I knew he was only teasing, at ease now that my friend was here. "I should know better than to leave you at home, my protector." Judas had been with us for nearly a couple of months now and he was proving a great friend. He was more intelligent by far than most of my followers but, though he stubbornly refused to believe in God, he was more willing to listen and learn from me. Judas considered himself wiser as he was older, but he was willing to listen. Though he did not believe in God, he did believe in me. Judas was willing to do almost anything for me.  
  
"Yes, you should have." He nodded his head in agreement and wrapped an arm around my waist to support me as we walked. "Are you all right? Did they hurt you at all?" He was looking closely at my face and arms.  
  
Many times it had been Judas who had kept me safe and warned me about danger. I depended on him and his advice greatly, and I believe he was a great deal more calm that when he'd joined us. He still insisted that he was no man's disciple, but he'd stayed at my side since I had healed him.  
  
"No, I'm fine." I shook my head and tried to control my shaking so he wouldn't worry. "I...I just got scared. There were too many to help. I don't think I can do it alone, Judas. There just isn't enough of me."  
  
"Then don't try." Judas advised. "Let one of your disciples bring the sick to you, then you can help one at a time and you won't risk yourself."   
  
He didn't look at me as we walked and I knew he was holding something back. Judas was not very good at keeping secrets or being dishonest. He had such a guilty expression when he was trying to hide something.  
  
It was strange, I thought. Judas had rarely ever kept his mind and thoughts away from me. If anything, he was always willing to share his opinion, no matter how unpopular. He was staring at the ground and a frown scarred his face making it seem ugly and twisted.  
  
"Is something bothering you, Judas?" I asked as we reached the hill over looking our small camp.  
  
"You take to many chances, Jesus." He said and we stopped walking. I think he wanted to speak to me alone, away from the others. "I know you think I'm foolish for it, but I also know you are putting yourself in danger. The entire world expects miracles from you, Jesus. Just like tonight and they could have killed you without meaning to."   
  
Judas walked away from me slightly. He was upset, really very upset and he was trying very hard to control himself, clenching and unclenching his fists without really being aware of it. "Don't let them kill you, Jesus!" Judas burst out suddenly. "You deserve better than that. Don't die for them!" He came to me suddenly and put his hands on my shoulders, looking at me hard as if he could convince me with just a look.  
  
"You worry to much, Judas. What is meant to be, will be. I know the path I must take. I am just glad you are here to travel it with me."  
  
Judas looked on the verge of tears and turned around quickly to get himself together. "We'd better go back." Judas said. "You know how the crowd gets when you don't show your face every now and again."  
  
  
  
JUDAS-  
  
  
He's simply beautiful. It's no wonder everyone loves him. I stood next to him but neither of us moves to go to the others. His hair is the color of copper and he has such innocent blue eyes. Will he object if I just...  
  
I reached out and touched his hair. I think I surprised him, but it was just as I thought it would be, soft, like corn silk. Jesus looks at me with surprise evident on his face.  
  
"Perhaps we should go back to the others, now." I said. It would be best to go back before this went to far.  
  
  
  
JUDAS-   
  
  
  
My home reeked with the metallic smell of blood. I ran in, desperate to know what had happened. I saw my wife on the floor, blood pooled around her. She was pale and still.  
  
"Helen!" I screamed, falling on my knees, I crawled to her and took her head in my hands. She was so cold and the blood around her was starting to congeal. How long had she lay like this, alone in the darkness?  
  
I was so happy to see her eyes flicker open. "Judas." Her voice was like a sigh.  
  
"Don't worry, Helen, I'll go for a doctor!" I almost stood, but her hand touched my knee.  
  
"No." She said simply. "It's to late. Hold me, love. Stay with me."  
  
I did as she asked, pulling her into my lap to find her holding something at her side. A small body, blue and cold, stiff with death.  
  
"No. Oh, God, please no." I can't stop the tears as I reached out for her body, to small to survive the world. "No." I touched her and she was so tiny her whole body would have fit in my hand. She was cold and lifeless.  
  
"Our daughter." Helen told me, cradling the tiny person to her breast. "What shall we name her, Judas?" Her eyes were getting more and more distant, foggy with the end that was coming.  
  
I looked down at our dead child. "Sarah." I said. "After your mother. Sarah."  
  
Helen stroked Sarah's baldhead. "Isn't she beautiful, Judas? We wanted her so badly and now she's born."  
  
I couldn't stand it any longer. "Who did this, Helen? Who hurt you?"  
  
Helen suddenly looked stubborn, a look I had long ago learned to recognize. She was a very strong willed woman. "I'm not going to tell you, just so you can go and get yourself killed for revenge." Her eyes turned hard. "I won't let you get killed!" Helen seemed to collapse, grabbing my hand and gasping for breath and I tried to calm her.  
  
"Don't worry, Helen. I won't do anything stupid." It was the best I could promise her.  
  
Helen smiled at me weakly. "Sing to me, Judas. You have such a restful voice. I need to hear it, before..." She couldn't bring herself to say it, but tightened her grip on my hand.  
  
I pulled Helen up against my side and we sat together, leaning against the wall, and took Sarah in one arm. I chose her favorite song and sang softly while Helen closed her eyes and sighed one last time with a smile on her face.  
  
Helen died completely at peace.  
  
I saw it then, beside an overturned table. I gently moved so my wife's body was leaning against the wall with our baby in her arms. They would go to paradise together, of that I was certain.  
  
It was a mask, one of the mesh ones we in the Roman Army used. I had one myself attached to my belt. I stopped when I saw the insignia on the right side of the mask. It was a griffin, the sign of my own troops.  
  
I felt myself start to shake. My own people! My hand picked troops, the ones I had spent so many years training. I had practically played wet nurse to the boys who'd been sent to me! I had taught them to shave, for God's sake!   
  
They killed my wife and my baby who wasn't ready for the world.  
  
I jumped up and saw red. Literally. The world was painted in red fury and I could think of nothing else. I would kill them all!  
  
There was a noise just behind me. I turned and saw it was my Helen's body. She had fallen to the floor and our Sarah had hit the floor and rolled slightly. I cried out, "No!" And ran to retrieve her. "Oh, Sarah, my angel." I put her back with her mother and realized there was something more important than revenge to take care of.  
  
I walked to the door, thinking to find a carpenter. I would need caskets for them. As I stepped across the threshold of what used to be my home, the world twisted.  
  
  
  
I was in a dark cell, straw on the floor and the stone walls were covered in moss. The only light came from a torch hung just outside the cell.  
  
Where am I? Wasn't I just with Helen? Why was I in a cell.  
  
HE MUST DIE.  
  
I suddenly saw a man on the floor of the cell. His back was striped with the distinctive marks of a whip, still oozing blood from the recent lashing. He was laying on his face, so I couldn't see who this man was.  
  
I walked to him and wondered whose voice it was that I heard. Certainly there was no one in the room but this pitiful man and myself, and the other man couldn't have the strength to talk.  
  
I turned him over and recognized him. Jesus!  
  
I knew him, the boy I was traveling with. How had he come to this state?  
  
HE MUST DIE AND YOU WILL BETRAY HIM TO THE PRIESTS.  
  
"What?" I demanded from the shadows. "I'm not going to hurt Jesus. He's my friend."  
  
HE MUST DIE AND YOU WILL BETRAY HIM.  
  
I was starting to get frightened now. "I won't do it! I owe him my life, my honor!" I screamed at the room. "Who are you?"  
  
I AM EVERYTHING.  
  
"I won't!"  
  
"You will."   
  
I turned to find Jesus standing near the door of the cell. He was still dripping with blood and there were large bloody holes in his wrists and feet.   
  
"Jesus, what happened to you?" I asked.  
  
"You must betray me."  
  
"I won't!" I screamed as loudly as I could and then found someone shaking me.  
  
"Judas. Wake up, Judas."  
  
Jesus was looking at me and apparently looked very confused. He frowned and I looked around. I was back home on the streets.   
  
It had all been a dream.  
  
  
  
JESUS-  
  
  
  
I was walking that night when Judas woke with the nightmare. It was dark in the streets where my friends and I lived; the dim lights above the street lit up the graffiti and cast shadows on all my people. We all sleep together on the street; there are no tents or other shelter to protect us except for the blankets we can scavenge. I can't sleep lately, not since HE told me what my life is all about, where it was to end.   
  
I'm so afraid and I can't even tell anyone.  
  
When we'd gotten back to the others in the city, I had to go alone to think. Judas was certainly attractive, but...the way he touched me. I wasn't sure how to react. He was older than I was and surely more worldly. Should I let myself?  
  
Everyone woke to Judas' horrible screams; terror filled screams that threatened to wake the dead. I instantly went running only to find others there ahead of me, trying to help. Judas usually sleeps near to me, I know he's protective and thinks if he can be near me, and he can help in case of danger.  
  
Everyone was awake and surrounding him, but Judas screamed and his thrashing kept them all away. Peter kept trying to get close, but Judas' feet would kick at anyone, his fists flew wildly. At one time, someone touched his shoulder, but   
Judas screeched at the top of his lungs as if he'd been burned and they let go hurriedly. Everyone backed up and Peter noticed I was watching. He looked at me with concern. "He won't talk to us." Peter had to speak over the screams. "He won't stop. I think he's still sleeping."  
  
"Let me see him."  
  
They cleared the way for me and I slowly knelt next to him, still whimpering and fighting with some nightmare. With a gesture, I made sure that Simon would clear away the others a few paces. I know him well enough to know that Judas would not want spectators so close after he woke up.  
  
I waited until everyone was gone, but the screams didn't die, as I'd expected them to. Judas had stopped flailing around and now he crawled pitifully into a corner, staring with unseeing eyes into empty space at whatever his mind was showing him. Tears were flowing freely down his face.   
  
Drool ran down his chin and there was foam on his lips. I went to where his shadowed form huddled in the corner. He was on his hands and knees, like an animal, and howling fear and rage.  
  
When I got close enough, I saw he was, as Peter had said, still sleeping as his eyes were wide open, but he didn't seem to see.  
  
"Judas? Wake up, Judas." I said softly and reached out for him. He jerked away from me, but that was the only fight he gave and I was able to take his shoulder and my hand went to his exposed throat. With a gasp as I touched his bare skin, Judas woke, his eyes now wide and the understanding that he was awake crept into his mind.   
  
"Jesus." He gasped before he lurched into my arms and I held him like a mother holding her baby while he cried and sobbed madly into my lap. It seemed to take hours for his cries to lessen. In the end, he just lay there, holding me tightly, afraid to let go.  
  
"What frightened you?" I asked softly, stroking his hair. He was drenched in sweat and seemed so pitiful that he was not like himself at all. Not at all like the confidant man I usually knew. He looked small and fragile as I looked at him, shaking.   
  
Judas looked at me. "I won't ever betray you, you know that, don't you, Jesus?" Tears had dried on his face and his eyes were red as blood. "Tell me you trust me, Jesus. I need to know."  
  
What an odd question. "Of coarse I trust you, Judas." How could I not? He was my dearest friend and of everyone I knew, I held in him in the highest regard. I wiped tears off his cheeks as best as I could and with my sleeve, I cleaned the drool and spittle off his face. "Is that what your nightmare was all about?" Perhaps this had to do with earlier when he'd touched my hair, or something, I knew he had fears about rejection and being alone because of when his wife and child had died. Perhaps he was afraid I would leave him, also.  
  
"Did I do anything? Say anything?" Judas was inching himself away from me, but didn't want to look at me.  
  
"You screamed and woke everyone." I gestured around us and for the first time, Judas saw that everyone was staring at him, confused and scared by Judas' behavior.   
  
Judas blushes bright red, but then his face got serious again, as he dismissed his embarrassment. His eyebrows were drawn close together and he pulled his knees up to his chest.  
  
He was frightened again, not by the dream and certainly not by me. What was he so afraid of?  
  
Judas wiped his hands on his trousers, looked at them and wiped them again to remove some unseen filth. "I won't betray you. I won't. I won't do it!" Judas jumped up and ran away up the stairs.  
  
"Judas wait!" He kept running and vanished into the darkness.  
  
"What was wrong?" Peter was there beside me, looking to where Judas had run. "What was that he said about betrayal?"  
  
"I...I don't know."  
  
Peter must have heard the concern in my voice and said with a hand on my shoulder, "Don't worry. He'll come back."  
  
  
  
I found Judas by the river in the center of the city, sitting with his legs crossed and staring at the moon. I stood there, not sure what to do and finally just went to sit behind him and put my hands on his shoulders.  
  
Judas tensed for a moment and then forced himself to relax.   
  
"Do you want to talk to me?" I asked softly as I started to rub his shoulders.  
  
Judas took a deep breath. "About what? It was a nightmare, nothing more. I acted like a fool and worried you. I'm sorry, it won't happen again."  
  
"You can't lie very well, did you know that? You have a very expressive face."  
  
"I..." he shook his head and looked at the ground. "I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"Anything you want." I kept rubbing his shoulders, trying to relax him. Perhaps if I could distract him for a few minutes, he would be more likely to talk to me.   
  
Judas seemed uneasy for a moment and he wasn't relaxing, as I'd expected him to. This was how Mary usually helped me to relax, with a massage, and I had thought Judas would like it, too.  
  
"I...I don't think..."  
  
"Judas," I said patiently. "You are one of my people, now, and I care about you as much as anyone else. Tell me your troubles and maybe I can help, but if you don't say, I can't do anything. I just thought I could help you to relax."  
  
"Trust me, this is not the way to relax me." He laughed nervously.  
  
"If you really don't want to tell me I'll leave you." I stopped and moved to stand and go, but he stopped me.  
  
"If you chose to stay with me, then don't leave." He warned me. He really was afraid that I would leave him. "Don't leave me alone."   
  
After I was a silent for a moment, Judas turned his back to me and I started to rub his shoulders again. He was responding in what I thought must be a good way. He moaned slightly and closed his eyes as he let his head loll back. "Nice." He murmured.  
  
"Tell me about your family." I was beginning to think that perhaps Judas was interested in more than just friendship with me. If he didn't want to talk about his nightmare, we would talk of something else that was troubling. Judas needed to talk about this and be able to move passed his grief.  
  
Judas tensed and I thought he would get up and leave, but he simply froze. "My mother died when I was four. My father sold me into slavery when I was twelve. I was lucky and able to buy myself out of slavery when I was still fairly young. I joined the army with nowhere else to go. I married a lovely girl with a smile like sunshine and hair dark as ebony. My pregnant wife was raped and beaten by soldiers under my command. She died soon after I found out what they had done. I have no family, now."  
  
He had said this so quickly, as if getting it over with quickly would spare him pain, and it took a moment to get over my shock and find my voice. "I thought you said she'd died in childbirth."   
  
"She did. The trauma of the rape brought on early labor and they both died as a result. There was no doctor and no one knew what had happened as we lived some distance outside town in the country. I heard some of my men bragging in a bar about what they had done. Some bit of fluff from a farm, swollen with a child." Judas choked, remembering the heartless words of his men.   
  
"I ran." Judas closed his eyes for a moment and then calmed himself. "I ran to her as fast as I could, but she was dead by the time I got there. The baby was a girl, and we named her Sarah, before Helen died. That was when I went to your father and bought the coffins. There was no need to tell a stranger about what had happened, so I just said it was in childbirth."  
  
"Is that when you left the army?"  
  
"How could I stay? I killed them, you know." He said this with disturbing emotionless, staring up at the stars. "I managed to find out exactly who'd done it and I killed them, one at a time and quite brutally. I carved them up with my little knife," He patted the sheathed knife at his side. "And I let them live long enough to feel as much pain as I could give them. I hadn't finished until a little while after I met you."  
  
I stopped and moved so I could look at him. "Julius?"  
  
Judas had a haunted look in his eyes. "He was the leader, my second in command, a captain at the time who'd taken my new recruits there for a 'bit of fun'. When I found out it was him, he'd gone out of the country on some mission for the Caesar. I couldn't find out where he'd gone, so meeting him the other night was just luck. And he dared to call himself my friend!"  
  
"Judas, that's awful." I couldn't help it.   
  
"They killed my wife and child. It was justice."  
  
I shook my head. "It's not right to kill, for any reason. You should have turned them into the authorities!"  
  
Judas laughed. "My poor, innocent friend! You don't know how the Roman government works, do you? His superior was his father and I know if his father had been there, he'd have taken a part of my wife, also. Julius never would have suffered for his crime and they would have laughed together after a mock trial." He lost his smile. "My darling wife had no rights because she was a woman and they felt free to do as they pleased just because she couldn't stop them. You know," He said almost as an after thought. "I'm absolutely certain, that if they had known she was my wife they would never have touched her out of respect for me. But, that shouldn't matter, should it?"  
  
What can I possibly say to that? "Judas, I'm so sorry you had to suffer all that. Do the whip scars have something to do with everything?"  
  
"Oh, those. No, those were long ago. My father had me beaten for some reason, I can't remember exactly what."  
  
"What?" I was suddenly glad that I knew so little of Roman life.  
  
Judas seemed to think his own beating was nothing. "That's the way things are. My father owned me until he sold me, he had the right to beat me if he saw fit."  
  
"No one should be beaten!" How can he be so complacent? I was so angry that he'd had such pain and didn't care. "Especially not a child!"  
  
Judas' eyes were drifting closed and he leaned back against my chest. He let out a long yawn and I knew he'd finally gotten relaxed. "That's the way it is." He repeated. "You won't tell anyone, will you?"  
  
"I promise. Just rest, Judas. I think you need it." I stayed with him that night and we slept together (not that way, you hentai! Get your mind out of the sewers. I don't do lemons!).   
  
  
  
In the morning he woke after I had and he looked up, remembering what he'd said.  
  
"Sorry if I made you uncomfortable with all that confession." Judas said the next morning.  
  
"Confession is good for you soul, Judas. Have you asked for forgiveness, yet?"  
  
"Forgiveness? From whom?" He actually had no idea. Judas cracked his neck with a sickening noise to help himself to wake up.  
  
"From God."  
  
"I told you before, there is no God." Judas said without thinking.  
  
I just couldn't get him to believe. "Will you tell me about your nightmare, now?"  
  
He went cold suddenly and turned his back on me. "We should get going. I've probably ruined your reputation by keeping you out all night." He spoke in a teasing voice, but I knew he was hiding something important.  
  
  
  
  
Later that day, Simon caught up to me and demanded that we get rid of Judas.  
  
"He's a Roman!" Simon protested loudly when Judas was out of hearing. The others had come to me with their concerns about him, also. "We can't trust a Roman. We all heard him admit that he was in the Roman army and he's lying about his name, now. It's not Judas, it's Cassius!"  
  
"Yes, he did." I said calmly.  
  
Simon grabbed for another reason to distrust Judas. "Roman's want to kill us all!"  
  
That was pitiful thing to say. "Judas was in the Roman army, but he left. He has no desire to kill anyone." I said. "If he'd wanted to hurt us, he'd have done it by now."  
  
"Then why does he carry weapons?" Simon asked, mentioning Judas' knife he kept under his shirt tucked into his belt.  
  
"I don't know, Simon. Why do you carry your weapons?"  
  
Simon tried his last card, "He killed all those people who'd killed his family, you heard it yourself!"  
  
I slowly appraised Simon and the younger man knew he'd said the wrong thing. "How do you know about that? Did he tell you?"  
  
"No, I..."  
  
"You were listening, weren't you? To his confession."  
  
Simon didn't answer, and that in itself was enough for me. "Have you told anyone what you heard?"  
  
"Yes." Simon mumbled, ashamed now that he was actually talking to me about it. He'd thought it was such an important discovery that of coarse he'd told everyone. They had to watch out for Judas now that they knew he was a murderer. He was a danger to them all.  
  
I looked at his camp and saw, for the first time, how everyone was staring at Judas like some strange insect. Judas was looking very angry and was looking directly at me. He obviously knew what was going on.  
  
"For one thing," I started, angrily. "You want to kill Romans yourself. What right do you have to hold it against Judas for doing what you want to do? Even if killing is wrong and evil, he was doing what he thought he had to do for his family.   
  
"For another thing, have you any idea how betrayed he must feel right now?" I asked Simon. "He will think that I've broken my word to him and now he won't trust anyone. Go apologize to him. Now!"  
  
Simon looked ready to protest but I gave him the look that said he'd better do as he's told, or else!  
  
Simon gave Judas a halfhearted apology before I went to him. Judas was still brooding. "I'll leave you now." Judas said sharply, filling his bag with what he needed. "I don't think I'm welcome here anymore, not that I was ever very welcomed."  
  
I put a hand on Judas' arm. "You are welcome by me." He said firmly. "Put down your bag and come closer to the fire, it's going to be cold tonight. Everyone here has sins in their pasts, even if no one but them knows about it."  
  
"Even you?" Judas asked.  
  
"Even me." I put his arm around Judas' shoulder. "Don't worry about what others will think, you are welcome here and they will grow used to the idea."  
  
After a moments hesitation Judas let his bag go to the ground. "You know, I thought it was you at first. I'd been sure you told everyone my secret."  
  
"I would never do that, Judas."  
  
  
  
  
"What's wrong with him, Father?" I asked, kneeling one night after everyone else had gone to sleep. "Why won't Judas talk to me? I know he's worried and scared. Is it because of the murders he told me about or his dead family?" It had been a few days since Judas' nightmare, but he still wouldn't tell me what it was about.  
  
HE IS TROUBLED BY THE DREAMS I GIVE HIM.  
  
"Dreams? Do you mean that horrible nightmare he had?"  
  
GO TO HIS TENT AND WATCH.   
  
I stood and did as my lord God told me to. The whole camp was asleep and Judas' was in his usual place, away from the others, but in a close enough spot to help me if I needed it.   
  
I watched as my friend slept. He talks in his sleep and as the minutes creep by, he grows distressed. I can now hear what he is saying.  
  
"Please, don't make me. He's my friend. He trusts me. Please, don't. I won't betray him, even for you. I won't let Jesus die. I won't kill him!"   
  
Judas thrashes in his sleep, as if he was fighting someone, but he doesn't speak any more. He starts to scream again, like the other night. I touch his forehead and ease the dreams from him, giving him other, sweeter dreams before he wakes himself or anyone else.  
  
While I was still at his side, I looked up at the skies. "Father, what does this mean?" Afraid that I all ready knew the answer.  
  
YOU WILL DIE, MY SON, I HAVE TOLD YOU THIS. TO FREE MAN FROM SIN, YOU MUST DIE. YOU WILL DIE BY BEING BETRAYED AND JUDAS MUST DO THAT.  
  
"Why?" I thought my heart was breaking. "Judas is my friend. I love him dearly, he would not betray me!"  
  
HE WILL DO IT BECAUSE I HAVE COMMANDED IT. THERE WILL BE NO MORE DREAMS, BUT I WILL INFLUENCE HIM IN OTHER WAYS.  
  
I shook my head. "Father, this will break him. Please don't frighten him anymore. He's terrified."  
  
HE WON'T REMEMBER WHEN HE WAKES, I ONLY MAKE SUGGESTIONS TO HIS SUBCONCIENSE. HE WON'T KNOW WHY HE THINKS HE MUST BETRAY YOU, ONLY THAT HE MUST DO IT. I WILL ENCOURAGE HIM AND YOU WILL NOT TELL HIM WHAT YOU KNOW.  
  
  
  
  
How could I ignore the fact that my best friend was going to betray me? Worst of all, I knew this would break him. I began to ignore him. Maybe if he wasn't near me, I wouldn't tell him what I knew, it was so tempting to tell him everything. It was slight at first, but he noticed when we gathered in the evening, instead of asking him to sit by my side, I would call Peter, Simon, or more often, Mary to sit with me.   
  
The first time this happened, I thought Judas would either burst into tears or attack, he looked so shocked. As usual, he tried to hide his feelings and act as if nothing had happened. He turned on his macho image, and went to sit by himself, as he had before we'd met.  
  
I tried not to see him watching me with those deep eyes and see the hurt and rejection in them. Judas ate alone. I was planning this very carefully and knew that Judas had to either hate me or think I'd gone mad. Because of this I deliberately began to ignore the behavior of some of my less peaceful disciples, Simon in particular. I let him show off his weapons to the others and talk of fighting when he thought I wasn't listening. It infuriated Judas to no end.  
  
The others in our group noticed the change in my behavior and began to treat Judas differently. He was not considered to be in my good favor, so no one treated him very well. He was now, as he had been before, a lonely outcast. He did, however, stay with us. Judas had no where else to go, so he stayed where he thought he wasn't wanted, but his honored demanded that he repay the debt to the man who saved his life.  
  
I found Peter's conversation lacking and Simon wants to talk only about war. How can I convince him that I don't want war? War causes only death and pain. There is another way around it. Judas would talk to me if I'd asked him, but I couldn't be kind to him right now or it would all fall apart.  
  
"What's he done?" I heard someone mutter and looking to where Judas was sitting up on one of the scaffolding that were everywhere in the city. I could usually find him up there. Judas sat with dark eyes and a bottle of alcohol in one hand. He knows I don't like it when he drinks, he's a bad drunk and tends to gets nasty. Every now and again, he would take a deep drink from the bottle, and then settle into staring. I knew he was starting to hate them, not me. He thought they were changing me.  
  
Unfortunately, his drinking was starting to effect me and my ears were ringing. I'd never done any hard drinking before so this bond between us was not very pleasant right now.  
  
"I don't know, but it must have been awful. Jesus forgives anything, but he won't let Judas sit with him anymore. He won't even talk to him anymore."  
  
I put my face in my hand and try not to say anything. Any word could tell Judas something he wasn't supposed to know.  
  
"I wonder if he's been talking against Jesus?" This was from Peter talking to one of the young women. "You know what Judas is, even if Jesus doesn't. He's a soldier, and they're all alike. He used to be a general in the Roman army, who knows, maybe he wants to go back to where life was good for him."  
  
"Do you think he'd do that? He loves Jesus, you can't miss it."  
  
"Maybe. But he's not one of us. He's always by himself if he's not with Jesus and he won't even talk to us half the time. We're not good enough for him!"  
  
I stopped listening at this point and stood up to take a walk to clear my head.   
As usual, no one noticed me leave. It was so odd. They all loved me, I was sure of that, but they didn't listen to me, not really. They wouldn't notice I'm gone for sometime and by then they would realize I wanted time alone.  
  
I was far out from the camp when I heard a crack behind me and turned. Judas was there, holding his drink and frowning.  
  
"If you aren't going to take me to protect you, you should have Peter or Simon go with you." He warned, sounding strangely like a mother hen. "You are getting to well known for your own good." Despite the fact that he still held his drink, Judas sounded clear headed.  
  
"The others were...busy." I tried to say as if it didn't matter. It was obvious to us both that if the others had been busy I should have called Judas to walk with me. It was logical, especially after the incident when the lepers and the other infirm had practically attacked me.  
  
"I heard." Judas shrugged, but I knew it bothered him. "They didn't even noticed when you'd left. They should pay more attention. Fools wouldn't make it in a proper army." He barked a short bitter laugh and. "They think this is an army, you know? They think you are going to lead them in a war against the Romans."  
  
I turned away from him where once I would sit and listen. "You're talking nonsense, Judas. This is no army and everyone here knows I don't approve of fighting." I made my voice as cool as I could. "We will not go to war with anyone."  
  
He was quiet a moment. "I think you're overestimating your followers. They are blind lambs following a figurehead instead of a belief. They will fight when their blood gets hot enough and in the battle, because you won't fight, they are going to get you killed."  
  
I started back to camp at a brisk pace. Being alone with him out here was not going to do me any good. Judas was too sensible and well meaning. "I do wish you wouldn't drink so much." I told him over my shoulder. "You know it effects us both."  
  
Judas threw the bottle away in the first trash can we passed.  
  
He followed me back, trying to convince me that he was right until we came into camp and the others swamped around me and he was left behind, standing alone. I tried not to see his hurt.  
  
  
JUDAS-  
  
  
I had heard it myself. The others were talking, "He's God!" One said excitedly and my ears perked up. "You know how he can heal with the slightest touch and he's said he knows the mind of God. How else can you explain these things?"  
  
"Can you imagine?" The other said wistfully. "If he truly is God, then he's chosen us to walk with him. We are truly blessed."  
  
This could get dangerous. I can see the danger now, these two will spread the rumors and others will believe them. It's true that Jesus can do remarkable things, but he is no God! He will have to stop these rumors soon.  
  
Jesus wouldn't listen to me anymore and I don't understand why. He's done some remarkable things that I've seen, maybe he knew I was dreaming that I would have to betray him. It wouldn't happen, I would see to that! Just because I had a dream, didn't mean it had to happen.  
  
"They are saying you're God." I started the conversation that way as I found him at the edge of the small river one night.  
  
Jesus was staring at the water around his feet and he said nothing.  
  
"Is it true?" I pressed him. "Do you think you're God?"  
  
Jesus turned and smiled that sweet, gentle smile. "I have never said that."  
  
I nodded, relieved that he hadn't gone mad, and crossed my arms over my chest. "Then you have to tell them the truth. Tell them you aren't God."  
  
Jesus looked back at his reflection in the water. "I can't do that."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I can't tell the people that I'm not God."  
  
I admit I was getting worried about my friend at this point.   
  
"You've started to believe the things they say of you.   
You really do believe this talk of god is true   
And all the good you've done   
Will soon be swept away,   
You begin to matter more   
Than the things you say.   
  
Listen Jesus; I don't like what I see.   
All I ask is that you listen to me.   
And remember I've been your right hand man all along."   
  
I reached out to touch his arm and he smiled at me before pulling away. Please, I thought, just remember who's been at your back all this time.  
  
"You have set them all on fire."   
  
I told him when I saw him returning to where his followers were. This time I grabbed his arm, hard. I had to make him listen. He had to understand!  
  
"They think they've found the new messiah.   
And they'll hurt you when they find they're wrong.   
I remember when this whole thing began.   
No talk of God then, we called you a man.   
And believe me, my admiration for you hasn't died.   
But every word you say today   
Gets twisted in some other way   
And they'll hurt you if they think you've lied.   
  
Nazareth, your famous son   
Should have stayed a great unknown   
Like his father carving wood,   
He'd have made good.   
Table, chair and oaken chest   
Would have suited Jesus best.   
He'd have caused nobody harm.   
No one alarm.   
  
Listen Jesus; do you care for you race?   
Don't you see we must keep in our place?   
We are occupied! Have you forgotten how put down we are?   
Our conquers object to another noisy sect.   
And they'll crush us if we go too far.   
If we go too far!"  
  
At this point everyone swarmed around us, and I was pushed aside, as usual.  
  
"Listen, Jesus, to the warning I give,"   
  
I don't care that everyone is listening! Let them stare at me!  
  
"Please remember that I want us to live!   
But it's sad to see our chances weakening with every hour.   
Your followers are blind! To much heaven on their minds."   
  
They were all trying to make me calm down and asking me what was wrong. How could they not know? Why couldn't they understand and see what they were doing? They couldn't possibly be that stupid! I know Jesus wasn't, so why was he ignoring the facts?   
  
"It was beautiful but now its sour.   
Yes, it's all gone sour.   
Listen Jesus to the warning I give,   
Please remember I want us to live,   
So listen to the warning I give.   
I just want us to live!   
It's all gone sour!"  
  
I can't help that I ended up practically yelling at him, but no one took any notice of me. The moment my voice died away, they began chattering; wanting news of what was going on and when Jesus told them all to relax and enjoy life, they asked when were we riding into Jerusalem.   
  
He wouldn't tell them and tried to distract them by telling them they wouldn't understand the bigger picture even if he did tell them. Then Mary took him by the arm and offered to cool his head off. He allowed her to! He let himself lay in her arms while she washed his forehead with cool water.   
  
I'll agree that he needs to relax more, the boy will have an ulcer in two years with the stress he puts himself under, but he should be worrying now. Not about others, but about his own people. They are turning into fanatics, a dangerous breed.  
  
Mary had begun to sing to him in her honey sweet voice.   
  
"Try not to get worried,   
Try not to turn on to problems that upset you."   
  
Everyone looked at me at this point. Great, they thought I was an annoying problem, now. Mary continued her song,  
  
"Ohh, Don't you know everything's all right,   
Yes, everything's fine.   
And we want you to sleep well tonight.   
Let the world turn without you tonight.   
If we try we'll get by, so forget all about us tonight.   
Sleep and they shall soothe you,   
Calm you and anoint you,   
Myrrh for your hot forehead.   
Ohh, then you'll feel everything's all right,   
Yes, everything's fine.   
It's cool and the ointments sweet,   
For the fire in you head and feet.   
Close your eyes,   
Close your eyes,   
And relax think of nothing tonight."   
  
Jesus lay down with her on the steps and let her relax him.  
  
Didn't he see what they were doing to him? I walked through the camp and stepped over the disciples as if they were nothing. In truth, they were nothing. Right now, the only person that mattered was resting on the steps with Mary rubbing his forehead.   
  
I wanted to scream. Everything was NOT fine and Jesus had to wake up and realize was going to happen. His people were thirsting for war and Jesus couldn't see it. They were going to use Jesus as a figurehead to do battle against the Romans. Jesus was so kind hearted to think that others would want to do such things. All he wanted was peace and I heartily agreed with that. I'd seen enough death when I'd been a general in the Roman army. That seemed like a lifetime ago, far from the dim streets where we now made our home.  
  
I had tried to convince Jesus of what was going on around him, a woman trying to make all his cares go away with a little ointment and a song while Jesus' disciples were planning an attack that would get them all killed.   
  
He wasn't listening to me.  
  
"Woman, your fine ointment, brand new and expensive,   
Could have been saved for the poor."   
  
Maybe I shouldn't have said anything, but I have to do something!   
  
"Why has it been wasted?   
We could have raised maybe 300 silver pieces or more.   
People who are hungry and people who are starving   
Matter more than your feet and head."   
  
I took the vial of ointment from her hands before she could put any on Jesus. I knew he was irritated at me, but right now, I just don't care.  
  
"Try not to get worried,"   
  
Mary surprised me by jumping up and touching my face and gently taking the ointment from my hand. I had expected her to yell or at least be a little angrier, but she seemed to calm her rage and sang to me a moment before going back to Jesus.   
  
"Try not to turn onto   
Problems that upset you,   
Ohh, don't you know everything's all right,   
Yes, everything's fine.   
And we want you to sleep well tonight,   
Let the world turn with out you tonight.   
If we try we'll get by so forget all about us tonight."  
  
I had walked away but before I got very far, Jesus stood up suddenly and said,   
  
"Surely, your are not saying   
We have the resources to save the poor from their lot.   
There will be poor always, pathetically struggling.   
Look at the good things you've got!   
Think while you still have me.   
Move while you still see me.   
You'll be lost and you'll be so sorry   
When I'm gone!"  
  
Jesus fell. He collapsed to the ground in the first show of weakness that I had ever seen in him. I moved to go to Jesus and help him, feeling lousy that I'd managed to upset my friend so much, but that brainless Peter stepped in front of me.   
  
"You are NOT going near him." Peter snarled. "You're the one who keeps upsetting him and that's why he's hurt. For once, just keep your damned mouth shut and let him relax. Leave him alone, Judas!"  
  
Mary continued her song, encouraging him to close his eyes and forget about us. Everything was all right.  
  
I found myself standing alone, with most of the other disciples between Jesus and I. They looked angry, aggressive and ready to fight. I knew they would as they thought I was the one who was disturbing their boss so much. I crossed my arms and pretended not to care. That was when Mary helped Jesus to his feet and put her arms around him. It should be me helping him, my arms around him! She led him off to find a place to rest, and as they passed me, Jesus slowed to look at me with a look of such sadness and pity it made me want to cry.  
  
Mary shot me a look of pure poison, thinking that I was the enemy, and hugged herself to Jesus more securely and hurried him along. She blamed me for hurting her love.   
  
True, she had never said anything like that, but I could see easily enough that she loved Jesus, even if he didn't seem to notice. Jesus, though he walked with Mary, he kept his eyes on me until they walked around a corner. Did he think I was an emeny, also?  
  
"They're going to kill you." I muttered to myself. No one heard me, they were busy singing to Jesus about how everything was fine, there was nothing for him to worry about. I walked through the crowd, stuffing my hands in my pockets. This would all end in disaster. I just knew it would. Damned if I would let them hurt Jesus! I would find someway to save Jesus from the influence of these weak fools.   
  
I would not let Jesus die!  
  
  
  
Jesus was loosing control of his people. The same cretins, who spouted words of love and peace to his face, were polishing their rifles behind his back. They spoke of invading Rome while he wasn't paying attention. I realized how great the danger for him was.   
  
If only he could regain some control he might be safe. When we went to Jerusalem and I know he saw how bad it was getting. We came in a huge crowd, they carried Jesus on their shoulders while they all sang. I, no longer a privileged person in the ranks, was pushed along with the horde at the back.   
  
We all looked up when the priests appeared, demanding that the crowd disperse. It wouldn't happen and Jesus told them that with a gentle smile. The priests soon left the scaffolding where they often over looked the people of their city and I climbed up using the metal footholds.   
  
It was a perfect place to watch and not get involved in whatever nonsense they were going to cook up. It was then that I noticed Jesus had climbed up after me, I had to step away from him because I was still angry with him, but we watched together. Why had he followed me? I wondered.   
  
The guard came out; six of them armed only with their clubs. As Jesus motioned for his people to be at ease and do nothing, of coarse they chose to attack.   
  
Jesus looked astonished. He couldn't believe they were doing this when they'd all clearly seen him signal. I looked at him and he looked back out of the corner of his eyes. He knew I was right, I could see it in his eyes, he knew I was right and he was getting scared of what was happening!   
  
They sang for him after beating the soldiers and chasing them off. With Simon leading them, they praised Jesus and said how they loved him. "You idiots! What are you doing?" I shouted, waving an angry arm at the crowd as I sat down and letting my legs dangle in the air.   
  
"Christ, you know I love you. Did you see I waved?   
I believe in you and God, so tell me that I'm saved!   
Christ, you know I love you, did you see I waved?  
I believe in you and God, so tell me that I'm saved.  
Jesus, I'm with you.  
Trust me, trust me, Jesus.  
Jesus, I'm on your side.  
Kiss me, kiss me Jesus."   
  
"Do you see now?" I shouted to Jesus over the noise of his people. Jesus didn't look at me. "They don't listen any more!" He had heard me and looked very worried. Simon spoke up at this point, having climbed up to where Jesus and I were watching. Then Simon raised Jesus' hand high as if this was a victory as the people sang to Jesus with their hands still bloody from the small battle. Jesus, to my eternal relief, tugged his hand away.   
  
He didn't like this any more than I did. I'd seen war up close and personal, not like these kids who were still at their mother's skirts when the last war had ended. I'd seen what humans could do to each other. I'd seen what 'I' could do to other humans, such monstrous things. It wasn't a pretty thing and I knew Jesus would want nothing to do with it.   
  
Simon had climbed up onto the scaffolding with us and sang with a triumphant voice. He was so happy to have won the fight that he didn't see how Jesus was looking at him.   
  
"Christ, What more do you need to convince you  
That you've made it and you're easily as strong  
As the filth from Rome who rape our country   
And have terrorized our people for so long."  
  
"Christ, you know I love you, did you see that I waved  
I believe in you and God, so tell me that I'm saved.  
Christ, you know I love you, did you see I waved?  
I believe in you and God, so tell me that I'm saved.  
Jesus, I am with you.  
Jesus, I am on your side, touch me, touch me Jesus."  
  
As the people writhed in an almost religious fever below, Simon spoke to Jesus in his war-loving manner. He was passionate about this and probably believed that Jesus would like this sort of thing. He yelled with enthusiasm,  
  
"There must be more than fifty thousand   
Screaming love and more for you.  
Every one of fifty thousand  
Would do whatever you ask him to.  
Keep them yelling their devotion,   
But add a touch of hate at Rome!  
You will rise to a greater power  
We will win ourselves a home  
You'll get the power and glory!  
Forever and ever and ever.  
You'll get the power and glory!  
Forever and ever and ever.  
You'll get the power and glory!  
Forever and ever and ever and ever, amen!"  
  
  
Jesus was angry. Very angry when he saw them passing out large guns as they sang to him of love.  
  
  
  
We were alone in the shadows now, everyone had left, but they hadn't given up their guns. I looked down at Jesus below me, looking so tragically disappointed in his disciples, so afraid and alone.   
  
Jesus would be safer in prison.  
  
I had a sudden flash of brilliance. Prison! That was it! He could just sit in a cell until all this rubbish died away. I licked my lips and looked at my friend who was walking away, looking so angry at the world. It was perfect and he would agree with me later, when he had time to think about it. He would be safe.  
  
  
  
She kissed him! My mind snapped. That tramp, that slut kissed Jesus! I knelt next to my sleeping friend and Mary saw me when she looked up. I smiled as nasty as I could and that was what Jesus saw when he woke up. If she had kissed him when he was awake and could decide if he wanted her to, I don't think I would have gotten so angry, but she got him when he was asleep and didn't have a choice.  
  
How dare she kiss him!  
  
Mary ran, from me, I think. I wanted to explain to Jesus, that I didn't do anything, really. So I'd tried to embarrass her. Big deal. She deserved it, she was trying to take advantage of his good nature.  
  
Jesus didn't say a word, but looked at me. I felt my heart sink when he walked away to find Mary.   
  
  
  
  
I ran until I found them. The priests emerged from the darkness like wraiths, clothed in their robes with hard faces looking down at me. This was it, if I was going to help him, I had to do it now. I started to explain to them my desperate situation.  
  
"Now, if I help you, it matters that you see,  
These sorted kinds of things are coming hard for me.  
It took some time for me to work out what to do  
I weighed the whole thing out before I came to you.  
I had no thought at all of my own reward  
I really didn't come here of my own accord.  
Just don't say that I'm   
Damned for all time!  
I came because I had to; I'm the one who saw  
Jesus can't control like he did before.  
And further more I know that Jesus thinks so, too  
Jesus wouldn't mind that I was here with you  
I have no thought at all of my own reward.  
I really didn't come here of my own accord.  
Just don't say I'm damned for all time.  
Annas, you're a friend, a worldly man and wise  
Caiathasis, my friend, I know you sympathize  
Why are we the prophets?  
Why am I the one who sees the sad solution?   
Knows what must be done.  
Just don't say that I'm damned for all time!"  
  
I can't help babbling. I can't stop talking until Annas grabs my hair and pulls it back hard, forcing me to look up at him.  
  
"Cut the protesting, forget the excuses.  
We want information, get up off the floor!"  
  
I can hear the contempt in his voice.  
  
"We have the papers, we need to arrest him  
You know his movements we know the law."  
  
"Your help in this matter won't go unrewarded."  
  
"We'll pay you in silver, Cash on the nail.  
We just need to know where the soldiers can find him   
With no crowds around him." This was from the head priest.  
  
"Then we can't fail."  
  
"I don't need your blood money!" I'm crawling like an animal, on my belly. Won't they listen? I don't want the money!  
  
"Oh, that doesn't matter, our expenses are good."  
  
"I don't want your blood money!" I shouted again. They don't think I mean it. I don't want it.  
  
"But you might as well take it, we think that you should." Annas, the worm, spoke with the strange nasally voice.  
  
"Think of the things you can do with that money  
Pick any charity, give to the poor  
We've noted your motives; we've noted your feeling.  
This isn't blood money  
It's a fee nothing more   
A fee nothing more."  
  
If I have to do this, shouldn't I take the money and do good with it? I could help people, like Jesus would want me to.  
  
"On Thursday night you'll find him where you want him. Far from the crowd in the garden of Gesemeni." I reached up and took the bag of coins. It felt so heavy, much heavier than silver should feel.  
  
They left like shadows and I stood, shaking for some reason. I had done the right thing, hadn't I? There was no reason for me to feel guilty, I was protecting my friend and I was getting paid to protect him. The pouch of silver felt like lead in my hand. I was doing a good thing. I am doing a good thing!  
  
I walked into the faceless crowd and I don't think I really saw anyone as I made my way back to Jesus' camp.   
  
I need a drink.   
  
  
  
JESUS-  
  
  
We were having supper in a beautiful garden, but I couldn't concentrate on the beauty. My disciples were singing happily, all but Judas who was sitting with a beer in his hand; he only drank when he was worried or angry, and glared into space. This was the day. It would all end here and now.  
  
I yelled at them after the communion.   
  
"I must be mad thinking I'd be remembered,   
Yes I must be out of my head!   
Look at your blank faces,   
My name will mean nothing   
Ten minutes after I'm dead!   
One of you denies me!   
One of you betrays me!  
  
Peter will deny me in just a few hours.   
Three times will deny me.   
And that's not all I see.   
One of you here dining,   
One of my twelve chosen,   
Will leave here and betray me."   
  
Judas looked like a puppy expecting to be whipped, he knew that I knew it was him. He was so terrified but suddenly he jumped up angrily.  
  
"Cut out the dramatics!   
You know very well who..." Judas stood and threw his beer aside.  
  
"Why don't you go do it?" I knew this was it, Judas had to do it now.  
  
"You want me to do it?!"   
  
"Hurry, they're waiting!" I tried to sound contemptuous, but I wanted to cry.   
  
"If you knew why I do it..."  
  
"I don't care why you do it!" Please, I thought, just go. If you wait any longer, I'm going to tell you everything! I'll lose my courage.  
  
"To think I admired you. Well, now I despise you!" Judas ripped the tablecloth off the table, sending everything flying. He was losing his mind with this.  
  
"You liar! You Judas!" The words he said hurt more than anything I could have imagined.  
  
"You want me to do it? What if I just stayed here and ruin your ambition, Christ you deserve it!" He was practically howling with his frustration.   
  
"Hurry, you fool, hurry and go. Save me your speech, I don't want to know! GO!"   
If you stay, everything will be ruined! You have to go now, Judas; I can't stand your pain. Just get this over with.  
  
We now stood at opposite sides of the table, littered with empty wine bottles and the discarded food. We were both silent a moment, panting for breath when he suddenly jumped up on the table, his face furious.  
  
"You sad pathetic man,   
See where you've brought us to.   
Our ideals die around us all because of you.   
And now the saddest cut of all,   
Someone has to turn you in,   
Like a common criminal,"   
  
He pushed me hard to the ground with a hard push.   
  
"Like a wounded animal!   
A jaded mandarin!   
A jaded mandarin!   
Like a jaded,   
Jaded,   
Faded,   
Jaded,  
Jaded mandarin!"  
  
He'd pushed me! Judas pushed me right off my feet. I had never imagined that he would actually raise his hands against me. The others tried to help me, but I pushed away from them. I don't want help. I wasn't acting when I jumped on the table with him and screamed,  
  
"Get out they're waiting! Get out! They're waiting; they're waiting for you!" He'd hurt me! My dearest friend had hurt me and I was so angry I couldn't stand it!  
  
"Every time I look at you I don't understand," Judas' voice was anguished and tears began to flow. "Why let the things you did get so out of hand. You'd have managed better if you'd had a plan!"   
  
Judas fell at my feet and curled one arm around my legs, weeping.  
  
We were all silent; the only sound was of crying and my poor, confused friends wondering what had happened to shatter our family. I was so sorry that I had to do this to Judas. So sorry that tears ran down my face and landed in his hair.   
  
I would just touch him, I decided. As I reached down to Judas at my feet, I thought, just one touch and you'll know everything will be all right. Judas jumped away before I could touch his head and walked away to do what I had told him to do.  
  
  
  
Judas came back after the others were all sleeping. My disciples had tried to get me to leave, but I would stay. They were free to go if they wanted, but I was staying. It ended here.  
  
"He's going to bring back the soldiers!" One of them insisted. "Judas wants to kill you."  
  
"He doesn't want anything of the kind. Go if you like, but I will be here when Judas returns."  
  
That seemed to settle it. Everyone stayed, but they slept before the soldiers came.   
  
I don't want to die. I'm so scared. Why is everyone going to sleep? Don't they know I won't be with them much longer? Do they even care? I wish Judas were here.  
  
"Will no one stay awake with me?  
Peter, John?  
Will none of you wait with me?  
Peter, John?  
I only want to say  
If there is a way  
Take this cup away from me  
For I don't want to taste it's poison  
Feel it burning  
I have changed   
I am not as sure as when we started  
Then, I was inspired  
Now, I'm sad and tired  
Listen, surely I've exceeded expectations.  
Tried for three years,  
Seems like thirty.  
Could you ask as much from any other man?  
But if I die,  
See the saga through,   
And do the things you ask of me  
Let them hate me, hit my, hurt me,   
Nail me to their tree!  
I want to know, I want to know, my God.   
I want to know, I want to know, my God  
I want to see, I want to see, my God.  
I want to see, I want to see, my God.  
Why I should die?  
Would I be more noticed than I ever was before?  
Would the things I've said and done matter any more?  
I have to know, I have to know, my Lord.  
I have to know, I have to know, my Lord.  
I have to see, I have to see, my lord.  
I have to see, I have to see, my Lord.  
If I die, what will be my reward?  
IF I die, what will be my reward?  
Have to know, have to know, my Lord.  
Have to know, have to know, my Lord.  
Why Should I die?  
Can you show me now that I would not be killed in vain?  
Show me just a little of your omnipresent brain  
Show me just a little there's a reason why you want me to die!  
You're far to keen on where and how,  
But not so hot on why.  
  
All right.  
I'll die.  
  
Just watch me die.  
See how I die.  
See how I die!  
  
Then I was inspired.  
Now I'm sad and tired  
After all I've tried for three years  
Seems like ninety.  
Why then, am I scared to finish what I started?  
  
What you have started.  
I didn't start it!  
God, your will is hard.  
But you hold every card.  
I will drink your cup of poison!  
Nail me to the cross  
And break me, bleed me, beat me, kill me!  
Take me now,  
Before I change my mind  
Now before I change my mind!"  
  
  
Judas came back after a very short time with his earlier tears dried on his cheeks and a dozen soldiers at his back plus one priest who was, apparently, in command.  
  
  
JUDAS-  
  
  
I kissed him, full on the lips and cried. I had wanted to do that for so long, so why did it taste bitter? Jesus put his arms up as if he would hug me, but then lowered them back to his sides when I pulled away.  
  
"Judas, must you betray me with a kiss?" He sounded so hurt.  
  
I can't help myself. I start to cry. The painful kind that comes from deep inside and no one can really stop. Jesus held out his arms and smiled at me. He'd forgiven me! Eagerly, I forgot the guards waiting and rushed into his embrace. He held me while I cried and I realized he was crying, also. We held each other tightly. How could I explain that I'd done this for his own good? The others would have let him die.   
  
I was lying to myself, the simple fact was that I had betrayed his trust, and I knew it. The nightmare had come true.  
  
I felt myself being pulled away from his arms but Jesus held on so tightly that he ripped the sleeves of my shirt. Just before they pulled me away, I looked at him and saw he was afraid, so very afraid. When they managed to take me away from him, The soldier's who'd grabbed me threw me into a wall where I collapsed, still crying.  
  
  
  
  
Several days later I was at the window of his cell and I watched as the guards beat him. If fate had been different, I realized with horror, it could be me in there, beating him. I had done far worse in the name of the empire when I'd been a soldier and beating a prisoner wouldn't have shocked me one little bit.  
  
I did this. I stared into the cell where my only friend was being beaten. He had screamed when they'd started, but now Jesus could only whimper. They wouldn't let me in to see Jesus and all I could do was watch from the window. I had put Jesus in this cell; it was the least I could do to watch what I had done.   
  
Jesus had been right when he'd said so long ago that we were connected. I could feel every time he was hit or kicked. Every blow was felt like shadow pain, not quite real, but it was there. I could even feel his humiliation, the agony he was going through. I knew he saw me, but he didn't know why I had come. If I could just talk to him!  
  
They left Jesus after nearly an hour and he lay limply on the dirt floor, bleeding and bruised. I can see his ribs! I did this; it's my fault. If I had just let Simon or Peter or even Mary be there instead of me, they would never have betray him. Perhaps they would have protected him better, perhaps I should never have traveled with him in the first place, I would be dead by now, from the sickness, and Jesus would be safe.  
  
I stood up straighter. I had said that I would protect him. I still owed him my life.   
  
I went to the door of the prison and knocked on the door. One of the guards opened it with a sword in his hand. Fortunately for me, he was very inexperience and I would have bet money that this was the young man's first job.  
  
"Hello." I smiled at him. "I'm here to see Jesus Christ."  
  
The young man shook his head. "I'm sorry, but..." He didn't get any further as I hit him over the head with the hilt of my sword and he slumped to the ground. Silly boy should have known to wear his helmet when he was on duty, I thought. His commander should be lashed for letting the boy get lazy.  
  
The prison was pretty much empty and I didn't know where everyone was. Perhaps they were patrolling the city in case Jesus' followers rioted. That's what I would have done. Still, I know they wouldn't have left him entirely unguarded.  
  
I crept around the stone passages and listened carefully to for the sounds of footsteps. Luckily, the guards always wore those heavy boots that would tell me where they were coming form a mile away.  
  
I passed many cells where criminals slept. No one noticed me, or if they did, they didn't care. I did come across a few guards who slept at their posts and a few who were unlucky enough to meet the hilt of my knife. One man I had to killed, but I actually regretted it. Jesus was rubbing off on me, there was a time when I wouldn't have cared at all, but now all I could think of was how young this man was and if he had a family.   
  
I found him, easily enough. His cell was guarded, but that was taken care of as easily as the others were.   
  
I took the key of the cell off the guard's belt and fumbled in the semi darkness to unlock the door. It swung open and he was there, resting on a pile of hay soaked with his own blood. His hair was matted with dried blood and he looked so pale and weak. I could see his bones.  
  
"Jesus!" I whispered. "Wake up. I'll get you out of here, don't worry." I tried to shake him gently to wake him, but his eyes only opened part way and his lips were swollen badly. "Come on. I'll make everything all right." If I died doing this, I would get him back to the others and they could take care of him. I don't deserve to be near him anymore.  
  
"Judas?" Jesus smiled and I saw several of his teeth were missing. "I didn't think you'd come here, but you must leave me." He mumbled. Even just talking seemed to tire him.  
  
I shook my head. "No. I got you into this mess. I know its all my fault, it was a terrible mistake, but I can fix it. Just come with me. I'll carry you if I have to."  
  
Jesus wouldn't let me help him. "You have to leave, Judas." He was drooling blood as he spoke. "This has to be. Go now and be safe."  
  
"Jesus, you have to come, they want to kill you. It won't end with this, just a beating. I know Rome, and they will call Pilot to execute you. He's a weak man, Jesus, and he will bow to the will of the people, even if he knows you've done nothing wrong. The people want you dead!"  
  
"If you have ever loved me, you must leave me, Judas."  
  
We stared at each other. "Why are you doing this, Jesus?" I asked. I just don't understand. He surely didn't want to die for my stupid mistake!  
  
He patted my cheek. "Just go. This is for the best, please trust me."  
  
"You're always asking me to trust you, aren't you?"  
  
There was a clatter of boots in the corridor outside and we both knew the guards were coming. "Go now." Jesus repeated.   
  
I knew he wouldn't change his mind, he's always been impossibly stubborn. I ran, leaving him in the prison where he wanted to be for some reason.   
  
Then it struck me. He wanted to be there, because he hated me so much that he couldn't bear to be with me for even a moment! He hated me, and for good reason. He wouldn't even let me help him.  
  
  
  
  
I ran to the priests, but I don't really know why. I knew this wouldn't change anything, but I felt that I had to. I had to try.  
  
"My God, I saw him!" I yelled at the council of priests as I climbed onto the table, crawling across it.   
  
"He looked three quarter's dead!   
And he was so bad I had to turn my head.   
You beat him so hard that he was bent and lame.   
And I know who everyone's gonna blame!   
I don't believe he knows I was acting for our good.   
I'd save him all his suffering if I could!   
And I acted for our good.   
Save him if I could."   
  
The bald priest grabbed my face in his cold hand.   
  
"Cut the confessions, forget the excuses,   
I don't understand why you're filled with remorse.   
All that you said came true with a vengeance.   
The mob turned against him. You backed the right horse."   
  
I hate him, that pompous ass! His pale face and cold eyes, I hate him! The bald priest with his pale skin and snake like eyes was smiling, he knew what I had done had he was glad I was in pain.  
  
"What you have done will be the saving of Israel." The head priest continued. "You'll be remembered forever for this,   
And not all that, but you've been paid for you efforts.  
Pretty good wages for one little kiss."   
  
The head priest said as if this was a good thing. They threw me into the streets and I didn't bother to get up as I emptied the bag of silver onto the ground. Scattering the worthless blood money around me.  
  
"Christ, I know you can't hear me,   
But I only did what you wanted me to.   
Christ, I'd sell out the nation   
For I have been saddled with the murder of you.   
I have been splattered with innocent blood.   
I shall be dragged through the slime and the mud.   
I have been splattered with innocent blood.   
I shall be dragged through slime and the mud."  
  
I lay down on the ground and let the rain pour onto my face.   
  
"I don't know how to love him.   
I don't know why he moves me.   
He's a man. He's just a man.   
He is not a king; he is just the same   
As any one I know."   
  
My voice is starting to fail me.   
  
"He scares me so!   
When he's cold and dead will he let me be?   
Does he love...he love me, too?   
Does he care for me?"   
  
I cry out, everything hurts and his beautiful face, smiling and laughing, haunts me. Everywhere I see him smiling. I can feel his touch.  
  
Suddenly reality struck and I knew what they'd done to me. They knew!  
  
"My mind is in darkness now.   
My God, I am sick.   
I've been used and you knew all the time!   
God, I'll never, ever know why you'd use me for your crime.   
Your foul, bloody crime! You have murdered me!   
You have murdered me!   
You have murdered me!   
Murdered me!   
Murdered me!   
Murdered me!   
Murdered!"   
  
God and Jesus both knew the whole time what I was going to do and they didn't try to stop me. God had wanted me to damn myself by betraying my Jesus. They had wanted me to do this. They both wanted me to kill my best friend!   
  
I screamed, not caring that the passerby's though I was mad. What did they care? He was going to die and it's my fault! My eyes went upward and landed on one of the scaffoldings that were all over the city and it was just outside the cell where Jesus was. It would do nicely as payment for my sin.  
  
Shortly later, I climbed onto the scaffolding and carefully tied a noose with a new rope I had bought just for this. "My fault." I whispered, sounding slightly mad. "God forgives all sinners," I repeated what I'd heard Jesus say a thousand time. "But don't forgive me, I don't deserve it. I don't want it. I just want Jesus to love me again. I'm sorry, so, so sorry." I looped the rope around my neck and pulled it tight. Just right. "Forgive me, Jesus. That's all I want. Forgive me. Love me." I jumped.  
  
  
JESUS-  
  
  
I looked up to see Judas climbing with the rope in his hand. "What's he doing?" I said outloud. Blood was blurring my vision, but I could see clearly enough. I had hoped he would be safe after I had sent him away.  
  
HE WILL DIE.  
  
"What?" I asked the voice of my true father. "Please, save him!"  
  
HE MUST DIE AS YOU MUST DIE.   
  
"No! Please, let me help him." Somehow, I managed to pull myself up until I was looking out the window and I reached out, but I was no where close to reaching Judas at where he sat on the thick branch talking to himself. "Judas!" I screamed, but he didn't hear me and he was mumbling to himself. "Just let me touch him and I can make him well again. I can help him!" I reached through the bars, but there is no way I can possibly reach him.  
  
HE IS TO DIE.   
  
I watched helplessly and it came with sickening speed. A simple jump and Judas' life was over with one quick snap. The odd thing was that I almost could feel the rope on his neck and had felt a shadow of pain when Judas had completed the task. Onlookers screamed in horror. I was able to touch Judas now, his foot was just within reach and I gave it the barest of touches. Judas was gone, only the body remained. There was nothing left of the warmth of his soul or spirit.  
  
In my mind, the part of me that was shared with Judas, where we felt pain and pleasure together, was empty. I had gotten so used to feeling him with me, that the emptiness was a shock, like suddenly being blinded.  
  
I slumped again; all of the strength had left me with my friend's death. "It's not fair." I cried. "Judas never had a chance." I looked up accusingly. "He shouldn't have had to die. It was your will that I die, not his. I can accept my fate, but he didn't have a choice."  
  
NEITHER DO YOU.  
  
Is that true? Was I meant to die like Judas? Miserable and hating myself? Am I just a puppet to be used by my beloved God? I know I will do this, but if only I knew what was waiting on the other side, perhaps my courage would hold. If only I could talk to Judas one last time.  
  
If only I wasn't alone.  
  
The darkness fell and all was silent, but the shadow of Judas' corpse was magnified on the wall of my cell by a street light, bigger than life and still swinging with the violence of his jump.  
  
  
  
The lashing still hurt like fire burning my body. The thorn crown was agony, cutting into my head and tiny rivers of blood drew red lines down my face and oozed onto my chest.   
  
It was hard to open my eyes but the crowd was roaring with joy at my sake. They loved a good blood bath. I heaved the crucifix, but it was so heavy, I can only move it a few inches at a time.   
  
Then he was there.  
  
Judas, in bright red leather, the finest clothes I'd ever seen him wear and he looked so happy. He was dancing and singing with such joy and his face was lit with happiness. He crouched down in front of me, almost as if he didn't see the crucifix I was trying to carry.  
  
"How?" I said softly. I feel so weak; my voice is little more than breath. I'd seen him die. I know I did.  
  
"I'm dead, Jesus." Judas said simply. "But don't worry, it's not as bad as it seems." He smiled. "In fact, I'm a lot happier now that I understand everything."  
  
I can't get off my knees, but I want to touch my friend so badly, just touch him to get some comfort, but he stays just out of my reach. "Don't worry, it's all right." He said and waved a hand to urge me on. "I've been where you're going and it's all right." Judas stepped behind me. "I can't help you with the burden, that is yours to bear, but keep walking, Jesus. You can do it. I'll be right with you the whole way."  
  
"Don't leave me." I begged him, my feet were sliding on the loose sand and I would have fallen, but he caught me. "I...I can't do this alone."  
  
His warm hand touched my back and the burning pain from the whipping vanished under his touch. Was this what it was like for the people I healed? "I promise I'll be here." He whispered.  
  
"I'm sorry, Judas, for all the pain I caused you."  
  
"Why?" He asked losing his smile and sounding hurt. "Why me, Jesus? Didn't I love you enough?"  
  
"More than enough." The crucifix is so heavy and the thorns are piercing my scalp, blood runs down my face. "My faithful protector." I reached out to him, but he was to far away for me to touch.  
  
"Then why did it have to be me? Why not one of the others?"  
  
All I know was that it had to be him. Judas was born for that task. It had been his purpose to betray me as it was my purpose to be betrayed and die. "You are the only one who loved me enough to die for me. No one else would have done it."  
  
"I'll show you the way when it's your turn. Now," Judas said encouragingly, smiling again. "Come on, come on. Just a little further." He was on the steps ahead of me, beckoning me to where I was to take the cross. No one else could see him. Was he a ghost or an angel or was it just my mind playing tricks on me?  
  
"I'm not strong enough." I groaned under the weight.   
  
"You're the strongest person I've ever known." Judas said. "This is easy, you can do this. It's just a few more steps."  
  
"It hurts!" Everything hurts. I'm so tired, just let me lay down.  
  
"It'll be time to rest soon. In just a little while you can rest and the pains will all go away. I'm with you, Jesus. Nothing to be afraid of, I won't leave you."  
  
I was suddenly grabbed and the cross fell heavily to the ground. I was thrown down onto the cross. Two soldiers held my arms down while a third brought nails and two mallets.  
  
"Don't move, Jesus." Judas was sitting on his knees at my head and stroking my hair. "This is going to hurt, I can't change it, just hold still and it'll be over soon." He kept whispering and murmuring comfort when the soldiers drew closer.  
  
The first strike was horrible, agonizing pain. I dimly heard Judas scream at the same time I did. He was weeping, but just kept touching my face and hair, trying to help. He leaned over at one point and rested his cheek on mine. At each strike Judas and I cried out together until it was finally done.   
  
The soldiers raised up the cross and I hung over everyone. Everyone except Judas, he was still at my side, floating in mid air. "It won't be long now." He said. "Just a little while longer."   
  
"Mother." I whimpered. "Where's my mother?"  
  
"Look into the crowd, Jesus." Judas gestured to the mass of people at my feet.   
"Everyone is here for you. There's your mother." And she was there, weeping in the arms of my earthly father, Joseph. She was suffering as greatly as I was. I also saw Peter and Simon. Gentle Mary and everyone else cried for me. "You will see them all again, don't worry."  
  
"I'm so tired."  
  
"I know." He touched my cheek. "Come with me, Jesus, it's time to rest."   
Judas took my hand and I felt myself grow lighter until I completely left my body behind and Judas was smiling at me.  
  
Judas smiled up at the clouds and laughed joyfully. For the first time since I'd met him, Judas was absolutely free.  
  
  
END  
  
  
  
PS, was I the only one who thought that when Judas kissed Jesus, it lasted just a bit longer than necessary for a simple kiss between friends? Perhaps Judas had some unspoken feelings there? Then again, I didn't see Jesus fighting the kiss at all. In fact, if I remember the movie properly, Jesus almost embraced Judas during that kiss!   
  
  
Was it just me or is Judas (Jerome Pradon) just about the sexiest man alive?!  
  
Till next time, readers. -Cousin D  
  
  
  
By the way, would anyone like to read about how Jesus and Judas met as children? 


End file.
